


A heart worth breaking

by justhockey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Brief Buck/OFC, Communication, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Insecure Evan "Buck" Buckley, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Worried Eddie Diaz, Worried Firehouse 118 Crew (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:55:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29209227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: “Told you I’m easy to leave,” Buck says, chuckling.And it’s supposed to be a joke, but it doesn’t quite hit right because it’s also true. Buck is the easiest person in the world to walk away from, even when he’s doing absolutely everything right.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 1206
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	A heart worth breaking

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _How You Remind Me_ by Nickelback. (Yes, really.)

Maisie walks out of Buck’s apartment with an almost guilty smile, and nothing more. She leaves like she hasn’t just ended a three month relationship with a thirty second, one-sided conversation. 

And Buck just watches her go. 

He ends up at Maddie and Chim’s place, sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, and baby Rosie tucked carefully into his arms. Chim is doing overtime so Buck has both of his girls all to himself. He doesn’t want to see the look of sympathy on his sisters face, though, so he focuses all of his attention on his beautiful niece instead - because she deserves it, and also because Buck is a coward. 

“What a bitch,” Maddie says. 

Buck instinctively covers Rosie’s ears and sends Maddie a glare. 

“ _Language!_ ” he hisses at her. Then, to baby Rosie, “You’re not allowed to say that word, okay?”

Maddie sighs but smiles fondly, because Evan is ridiculous but also because he’s so good with her daughter that it makes her insides feel all mushy. 

“I’m just saying,” Maddie continues, and god, Buck wishes she wouldn’t. “You don’t ditch your boyfriend because your ex apologises for sleeping with your best friend.” 

And like, Maddie is right, it was totally a bitch move. Maisie’s ex - who had slept with her best friend _twice_ \- had sent one grovelling text, six months after their break up, and she’d gone running right back. Which. Kind of sucks, really. 

“It’s whatever,” Buck says, then leans down to kiss Rosie‘s hand where it’s curled tightly around his finger. 

It’s not really _whatever,_ if he’s honest. It does actually hurt. It’s just easier to brush it off and move on, than wallow in self pity and make himself feel even worse about it. 

It’s not like he was in love with her, that position was filled long ago by Eddie, and Buck can’t see it changing any time soon. In fact, when she first said they had to break up, he figured it must have been his fault - that maybe because his heart wasn’t 100% all in, she could sense it. But that obviously wasn’t the case. 

And anyway, Buck was a great fucking boyfriend to her. He took her out to dinner, and the movies, and on picnics to the beach. She met the 118 recently. He had flowers sent to her office every Tuesday, because he knew it was her busiest day of the week and he wanted to give her something to smile about. Buck even paid to get her hair and nails done a few times. 

Which is kind of what stings so much. Like, he knew this wasn’t going to be a forever kind of thing, they were just too different for that. But it felt like it was going okay - they were having fun together and it was easy, there wasn’t any pressure. So to leave him leave in the blink of an eye, like Buck hadn’t spent months doing anything and everything she wanted or needed, for her _cheating ex,_ no less. Yeah. It didn’t feel particularly good. 

“Told you I’m easy to leave,” Buck says, chuckling. 

And it’s supposed to be a joke, but it doesn’t quite hit right because it’s also true. Buck is the easiest person in the world to walk away from, even when he’s doing absolutely everything right. That’s the kind of thing that starts to get to a person after a while, no matter how hard they try to ignore it. 

“Evan,” Maddie says, and her voice is too sad and he really doesn’t want to do this right now. 

“It was a joke, Mads. I’m good, seriously. Not like I was gonna marry the girl,” he says. 

But she’s still looking at him like she wants to cry. Which honestly isn’t new, since Rosie was born - Maddie cries at absolutely everything. But this seems a bit different, and Buck instantly feels guilty. He knows how bad Maddie feels for leaving him behind, and he doesn’t want her head going there when he was only supposed to be making a joke. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns. 

“You’re not easy to leave, Evan,” she tells him, reaching forward to place a hand on his knee. 

He diverts his attention back to Rosie, who’s still fast asleep but her nose keeps scrunching adorably. Buck can’t help but smile, so happy that she’s here and safe, and that he gets to be a part of her life, and that her mom and dad are two of the best people in the whole world. 

He knows he’s lucky to have her, and Maddie and Chim, and Eddie and Chris, and the rest of the 118. He _knows_ he’s got it good. And he hates that it doesn’t feel like enough sometimes. But he’s working really hard on that. 

“At least it wasn’t my fault this time,” he says, self-deprecating even when he’s trying to lighten the mood. 

“It’s never your fault, please don’t say that.”

He laughs softly, not quite sad, but definitely not a happy sound either. 

“We both know I push people away, Maddie. It’s not top secret information,” he says. “Or I’m, like, overbearing. Too much.”

He shrugs then, because he doesn’t really want to think about that. Doesn’t want to think about how he was too much for his parents to handle and Ali to put up with, but not enough for Maddie or Abby to stick around for. 

And he won’t even let his mind drift to Eddie and Christopher, how he spends so much time with them that one day he’s certain Eddie will turn around and ask him to leave. He can’t go there, because it might just kill him. 

“You have such a big, beautiful heart, Evan,” Maddie tells him. “You’d give a stranger the coat off your own back and not even think twice about it. It’s just easy for people to take advantage of that.” 

“So you’re saying it’s my own fault?” He asks, and he knows that’s not what she’s saying, but this is what he does. He pushes until he ruins things. 

Maddie sighs and moves to sit beside him, a steady warmth all down his left side. She brushes her finger over Rosie’s head to settle an unruly curl, then gives Buck’s arm a squeeze before pulling back. 

“Of course that’s not what I’m saying Buck,” she tells him. 

And he knows that, of course he knows that. But what if it’s true? Maybe he just _lets_ people walk all over him because he always feels like he has to be useful, always feels like he has to be doing something worthwhile in order to be wanted. 

“I’m just saying that the world isn’t as good as you are, and when you meet people who don’t have the same intentions as you, it’s easy for them to manipulate or use you,” Maddie explains. 

Buck isn’t sure what his face does in response to that, because he isn’t even really sure what he’s feeling. But either way, Maddie leans even closer so her shoulder is pressing against his. 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing that you’re a good person, and I’m _not_ saying it’s your fault people hurt you,” she continues. “I’m just saying maybe you need to be a little less giving, because people take, and take, and take from you, and then what are you left with?”

He knows what she’s saying, and he knows that she’s just trying to look out for him because that’s her job as his big sister. But sometimes he wishes she just, wouldn’t. Because he knows her heart is in the right place, but making him feel even _more_ insecure about himself isn’t helping. Buck hates the idea that he’s such a doormat, that he’s so _used_ that there’s nothing left of him to give. 

Because he doesn’t know much, but he knows that isn’t true. He knows he’ll always have more to give. He gives so freely because he believes that people, at their very core, want to be good. And there’s no such thing as too many good people. 

“Look, I know that I always end up getting hurt, and I know that I always get left behind looking dumb as hell,” Buck begins. “But what am I supposed to do, stop treating people right?”

He looks at Maddie for a second, just to see her reaction. But he doesn’t give her time to answer, he needs to get this out before he changes his mind about being so honest. So he looks back down to Rosie, who’s already made this world so much brighter since she arrived, and who deserves to live in a world where people are good just - because. 

“I’m not gonna let the world turn me into a cynic. I’m not gonna stop being _me._ If it means I get hurt, then it means I get hurt. That’s more of a reflection on them, than me.”

As he’s saying it, he can practically _feel_ Dr Copeland beaming with pride. He’s making progress, and it’s slow, and Buck is still insecure about basically everything, but at least he’s starting to know who he is now. At least he has the confidence to say _no, I’m not going to change because it would make things easier for me._

Buck doesn’t want easy, he just wants possible. 

When he finally looks up at Maddie, she’s wiping away the tears and her bottom lip is quivering. 

“Maddie-“

“I don’t know how you ended up like this,” she says. “I don’t know how you were raised by mom and dad, and hurt time and time again, and you’re still so _good._ But I’m so glad you are, Evan. And I’m so proud of you.”

And he doesn’t cry. He _doesn’t._ It’s just that Rosie’s baby powder irritates his eyes.

**—————**

When he shows up for his next shift, everyone is acting weird. And by weird, Buck means nice. Like, no teasing, no gentle bullying, _nice._ Which hasn’t happened in the history of, like, ever. So Buck knows something is up.

And judging by the apology text he gets from Maddie fifteen minutes into his shift, she absolutely told Chimney about his break up, who absolutely told every single person they know. Which is fantastic, really. Just, exactly what Buck needs. Everyone’s completely unnecessary sympathy. 

Because sure, he was miserable for a day, but he’s over it now (not the crippling insecurity, that’s here to stay, but the relationship? Definitely). Christopher and Eddie had FaceTimed him once he got home from Maddie’s, and, well. It’s hard to mope over an average-at-best relationship when he gets to have the Diaz boys in his life, who are bright and happy, and make Buck feel like he’s really a part of something special when he’s with them. 

So Buck is fine, but everyone is treating him like he’s not, and it’s sort of driving him crazy. 

He makes it through their first call, where Hen pats him on the back and says ‘good job’, even though all he did was hold a ladder while Eddie got an eight year old out of a tree. And he makes it back to the station, even though Eddie keeps glancing at him like Buck might fall apart at any second. 

But when Chim asks, “You good, Buckley?” with a sickeningly sincere tone, Buck has completely had it. 

“Okay,” Buck says loudly.

He claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention, and waits until all eyes are on him before he continues. 

“I know that Chimney here,” he says, shooting him a glare, “has very kindly informed you all that Maisie and I broke up, but I am _fine._ ”

They all look at him, unsure whether or not he’s telling the truth. Even Bobby is standing with his arms crossed, watching Buck like he doesn’t believe a single word that’s just come out of his mouth. So Buck sighs dramatically, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration. 

“I’m serious! I’m completely fine, alright? It sucked, and then I got over it. Now please stop being all - _nice_ , to me. And stop looking at me like that,” he says, pointing at Eddie who’s got his puppy dog eyes turned all the way up to a hundred. 

It’s quiet for a second, and Buck feels like a kid waiting for his parents to decide on a punishment as they all glance between each other, talking with just their eyes. He sighs again, so totally done with their shit, but also very much appreciative of how much they care about him. 

“I don’t know Buck, you seem kinda unstable to me,” Hen teases, humour gleaming behind her eyes. 

Buck throws his head back and laughs. “You’re killing me.”

But things go back to normal after that, so Buck considers the mission a success. 

Hen steals the last of the goldfish pretzels that he’d been saving, and Bobby puts him on dish duty, and Eddie. Well. Eddie steals the fresh cup of coffee he’s just made, but honestly, the jokes on him there, because Buck knew he was going to do that so he made it exactly the way Eddie drinks it. So that’s another win for Buck, probably. 

It’s better, like this, because he can’t stand their sympathy. And he knows it’s just because they care, but he hates the idea of them worrying about him, the idea of him being a burden on any of them, even though none of them would ever make him feel like that. In fact, they actively make sure not to after the law suit, after they saw just how much damage their actions did to him. 

As they’re sitting around waiting for the next call - Chim and Hen sharing pictures of Rosie and Nia respectively, Bobby filling out paperwork, and Eddie squinting at a crossword puzzle - Buck thinks, not for the first time, how damn lucky he is. These people, who follow him into burning buildings and who he follows over cliff edges, are his family. 

He’d die for any one of them without a moments hesitation, and he’s getting better at believing they would do the same thing for him. So even when things aren’t great, when Buck is having one of his bad days and he’s anxious, and lonely, he knows that he’s never really _alone._ When he doesn’t really like himself, Buck knows that they love him, and he knows that he’s always got them to turn to.

Especially Eddie, who’s his partner, and best friend, and the love of his life. But that last one is neither here, nor there. Because while his love for Eddie feels like the biggest part of him, feels like the biggest thing in every room they’re in together, it’s not everything. 

_Everything_ is their friendship, it’s the way he loves Christopher, and Christopher loves him back. It’s the way Buck knows he and Eddie would do anything for each other, no matter when or where. 

All of that is more important than how much Buck loves him, will _always_ be more important than how much Buck loves him, because he refuses to do anything to ruin what they already have. 

And that’s hard, sometimes, because Buck has wanted Eddie since the first moment he saw him, changing in the station. He’d been half in love with him by the time he saw Eddie hold Christopher tight after the earthquake. And it was hardly a surprise when he arrived at work one day and Eddie was already there, just frowning at his phone, and it hit Buck so suddenly, that he was in love with him. 

So it can be hard, sure. But losing Eddie, and losing Christopher, that would be the hardest thing in the world. So he can smile and laugh, and pretend that he’s not in love, as long as he gets to keep them for as long as they’ll have him around. 

“Let’s go,” Eddie says, smacking Buck upside the head when the alarm starts to blare. 

And yeah, this is enough, Buck thinks.

**—————**

The call is a shit show right from the beginning. A middle school kitchen fire that got out of hand way too fast, and spread way too far.

They know as soon as they get there that they’re not gonna be able to save the building, so the priority is extraction. They need to get in and get every single kid and faculty member out, before the fire reaches the science lab - and the oxygen line - and the place blows. 

It’s going as straight forward as possible, considering the circumstances - which is to say, it’s a fucking mess. There are at least three classes already trapped by the fire, not to mention all the possible kids that are skipping class or in the bathrooms and are unaccounted for. 

It helps that two other firehouses have shown up, and Bobby has taken command of directing them all, but it’s still an absolute mess. 

They find a way to make it work, though, because it’s what they do. 

“Buckley, Diaz,” Bobby calls, once the classes have been evacuated. “One last sweep, you’ve got two minutes then I want you out.”

They look at each and nod, both of them ready to get this done. 

As they’re about to enter the building for one last time, Eddie turns around and grabs Buck’s wrist. 

“Stay close,” he warns. 

“I got your back,” Buck promises, and they head inside. 

It’s like a furnace, and there’s black smoke everywhere, so thick there’s barely any visibility. Buck stays close to Eddie’s heel, not wanting to risk losing sight of him and not being able to find him - he’s not about to let Eddie almost die on his watch again. 

They clear as much of the building as they can, and don’t find anyone. Then Bobby’s voice comes over the radio, telling them to get their asses out before the place blows. So they’re making their way towards the exit, fast and efficient because it’s the only way he and Eddie work, when Buck hears it. 

He can hear someone yelling off to his left, and he shouts to Eddie to get his attention but he can’t hear him. Buck checks his radio, but when he presses the button all he hears is static. He doesn’t have enough time to go after Eddie _and_ find the person calling for help, and he definitely can’t leave them alone. 

So he turns left and lets Eddie keep walking. 

And thank whoever the fuck is out there, it doesn’t take Buck long to find them. It’s a girl, no more than twelve - her face is covered in grime and her clothes are singed, and it takes Buck less than a second to realise that she’s not doing too great. That neither of them are, actually, because suddenly he can smell gas, and he knows they’re not gonna make it to the door. 

(Elsewhere, Eddie is stumbling outside, and when he turns around, Buck isn’t behind him. He doesn’t even think about it, just rushes forward to go back in and find him. 

But then the building blows, and there’s a pair of arms around his chest pulling him backwards, and Eddie is screaming but Bobby won’t let him go.) 

Buck and the kid scramble out of a classroom window just seconds before the place blows. The force of the explosion sends both of them flying, and Buck instinctively wraps his body around the kid to shield her from any falling debris. 

When he finally walks around to the front of the building, the girl - Hanna - safely in his arms, Eddie is the first thing he sees. 

He’s on his knees, and Buck’s heart drops because he thinks he’s hurt, but then he sees the rest of his team looking at the school with looks of horror on their faces, and it hits Buck. They don’t know he made it out. 

The urge to get to them and reassure them he’s okay overtakes him, and he stumbles forward so quickly that Bobby catches the movement. Buck can literally see the way his shoulders sag in relief, and he can see as Bobby taps Eddie on the shoulder and points to where Buck is heading towards them. 

He doesn’t know who takes Hanna from him, but suddenly she’s gone and he’s got an armful of Eddie instead. He’s grabbing everywhere he can reach, Buck’s arms, his shoulders, and then finally his face. 

“What the fuck. What the _fuck,_ Buckley,” Eddie is repeating, and his voice is hoarse like he’s been crying or shouting. 

He’s still holding Buck’s face between his hands, so Buck reaches up and grasps onto his wrists to ground himself, or maybe Eddie. Probably both. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m sorry,” he replies breathlessly. 

Then Eddie is leaning forwards, his eyes scrunched closed, and he rests his forehead against Buck’s. And they’re sweaty, and filthy, but the closeness still steals Buck’s breath. 

“You were supposed to be on my tail,” Eddie whispers, and Buck can feel his breath on his face. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I heard yelling and you couldn’t hear me shout, and my radio isn’t working, and I couldn’t leave her,” he rambles nervously, desperate for Eddie not to be mad at him. 

But mentioning Hanna has him pulling his head back from Eddie’s, looking around in search of her because he doesn’t know who took her, or if she’s okay. 

“Where-“ he starts, but doesn’t even have time to finish before Bobby swoops in. 

“Hen and Chim are taking her to the hospital, she’s okay,” he explains. 

And Buck is beyond relieved, but Bobby’s appearance makes them acutely aware of where they are, and that they’re not alone. So, hesitantly, Eddie lets go of Buck’s face. 

He takes a step back, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Buck for a single second. Not when Bobby folds him into his arms, or when a paramedic checks him over, or when they’re finally on the truck and heading back to the station. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make another move to touch Buck, but he never looks away.

**—————**

“You’re coming home with me,” Eddie says, his voice still scratchy and worn out.

It’s the end of their shift - finally - and every single part of Buck’s body is aching. He’s definitely not surprised that Eddie is trying to drag him home with him, but he’s still gonna try and fight it anyway. 

“I’m fine,” Buck tells him for the seventeenth time since the fire. 

Eddie fixes him with a stare that would bring a weaker man to his knees - and not in the fun way. Buck just stares back though, eyebrows raised challengingly. Because he _is_ fine, he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, and he doesn’t want Eddie to be stuck with babysitting him. 

“What part of ‘you’re coming home with me’ sounded like a question?”

Buck closes his locker and pulls his bag up onto his shoulder, carefully avoiding looking at the way Chim and Hen are observing this interaction. 

“Eddie, listen, I’m-“

“It wasn’t a request, Buckley. Follow me home,” Eddie says with an air of finality. 

Then he waves goodbye to Hen and Chim and leaves, doesn’t even bother turning around to check that Buck is following because he already knows that he will be. So Buck sighs, says his goodbyes, and then follows after Eddie, because let’s face it, he’d follow him anywhere. 

The journey to Eddie’s is so familiar now that Buck could probably do it in his sleep, and he’s so exhausted by the time he pulls up outside the house, that it’s honestly a miracle he didn’t have to. 

He’s maybe a little hesitant to go inside, because he knows that Christopher is having a sleepover at a friends tonight, so he’s not even there to act as a buffer for him and Eddie. And Buck is pretty sure they could do with a buffer, because he knows that Eddie is mad at him. Not in a screaming and shouting kind of way, but in a quiet, beneath the surface way. 

So Buck knows that he’s in for an earful, a _you’re so reckless,_ and _you’re exhausting,_ and an _I don’t know what to do with you_ kind of conversation. And while he understands and appreciates Eddie’s anger and concern, he just really doesn’t want to have to hear about it. 

Because every time he does, it makes something in Buck’s chest spark with hope. The hope that maybe Eddie wants this too, maybe he feels the same. And Buck _knows_ he doesn’t, he’s not stupid. But he’s not in control of his heart, either, as much as he wishes he could be. 

He gets out of his truck anyway. Because he knows that if he doesn’t, Eddie would have no issue with coming out to drag his ass inside. 

“I ordered Thai,” Eddie says when he hears Buck walk into the kitchen. 

And, okay. That’s one way to soften Buck up. 

“Oh great, Thai is my favourite,” he says, instantly feeling a little more enthusiastic about the evening. 

Eddie turns his head back to look at Buck and rolls his eyes. “I know,” he says, before turning back to look in the fridge. 

When he turns back around again, he’s got two beers in hand. He taps the top of them onto the counter to get the caps off, then hands one over to Buck. They clink the bottles together and then both take several long long gulps, and the cold feels good on his throat after all the smoke he’s taken in today. 

“You’re a dick,” Eddie says, completely casually. 

Buck almost chokes on his beer. 

“Dude, what?”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t even-“

But before he can finish, the doorbell is ringing and Eddie is walking away to go and collect their food. And like, Buck wants to continue the conversation because he doesn’t even know where the _fuck_ that came from. But Buck also wants his Khao Soi and Khao Pad, so he shuts up and takes his food off Eddie before he changes his mind. 

They turn on the TV as they eat, catch the highlights of a Kings vs. Leafs game even though neither of them really care about hockey, and barely say a word. 

It probably should be awkward, as they eat their food and drink their beers in almost complete silence, with their shoulders pressed together. But it’s just - not. Things are rarely ever awkward between them anymore, even if one of them is a little mad, like Eddie clearly is right now. 

It’s just, they’ve gotten so much better at talking to each other about things that matter. Since the lawsuit, and especially since Buck started going to therapy. Which means he knows that Eddie will talk when he’s ready, but certainly not before. So he’s happy to just sit in Eddie’s company until that time comes. 

It’s maybe thirty minutes after they’ve finished eating, and the highlights of a clippers game have started playing on TV, when Eddie finally speaks. 

“You almost fucking died,” he says. 

And Buck is taken aback, because Eddie doesn’t sound as angry as he expected him to. He sounds tired, and quiet, and more than a little shaken up. 

“I’m okay,” Buck assures him. 

He doesn’t turn to look at Eddie, but he can feel with the way his body moves that he’s nodding his head. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But you almost weren’t.”

“The door was too far away, so we climbed out the window. We got out before the place blew,” Buck explains. 

“You were supposed to be following me,” Eddie says, and Buck can hear some of that anger now. 

And he gets it, how could he not? If the roles had been reversed, if Eddie was the one who got stuck in there, Buck would have lost his damn mind. 

“I couldn’t just leave her, Eddie. And I couldn’t get to you, _and_ get back to her in time.”

“I know. _Fuck_ ,” Eddie says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I _know_ that, okay? But the place fucking exploded, and I thought you were dead.”

Buck’s heart cracks along with Eddie’s voice, and his palms are pressed together, trapped in between his knees so he doesn’t do something stupid like reach for Eddie. 

“I thought you were dead and I couldn’t fucking _breathe,_ ” Eddie whispers. 

And Buck kind of knows the feeling, like when the water came and he couldn’t find Christopher, and when the mud buried Eddie 30 feet underground, and right now, in this moment. 

“I’m sorry. I’m still here,” he reminds Eddie, voice gentle and soothing. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. 

He laughs wetly, and sits back again as he brushes his hands through his hair. Buck thinks maybe he’s crying, or close to tears, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just relaxes into the feel of Eddie’s arm pressed back along his. 

They sit quietly for a few minutes. Buck can almost feel the tension bleeding out of Eddie, can practically feel the way his body sighs in relief, and the pressure on Buck’s right arm increases, as Eddie relaxes against him. 

“You deserve better,” Eddie eventually says. 

“What do you mean?” Buck asks. 

He’s not sure what they’re talking about now, whether the conversation has changed or if they’re still on the school fire and near-death experience. 

“Better than Maisie,” Eddie explains. 

And that - that definitely takes Buck by surprise. He finally turns to look at Eddie - more out of shock, than anything else - and his breath catches in the back of his throat when he realises that Eddie’s eyes are already on him. 

“I don’t care about Maisie,” Buck says, his voice barely even a whisper. 

Because he doesn’t. How could he, when Eddie is sitting beside him looking at him like this? Like Buck is the only person on the planet. 

The moment feels so heavy, like there’s something hanging between them by a thread, and one wrong move could send it crashing. So Buck doesn’t move, and neither does Eddie. And they stay side by side, eyes trained on each other. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Eddie says, so quiet Buck almost doesn’t hear it. 

“I wouldn’t leave you behind,” he replies. 

And it’s teasing, but not really, because it’s maybe the truest thing he’s ever said. 

“You can’t,” Eddie says, voice suddenly loud in the quiet of the room. “You just - you can’t ever leave, Buck. I think - I think it would kill me.”

It feels like all the air gets sucked out the room, like the whole of Los Angeles is standing still to hear whatever is about to be said in this moment. And Buck is too, completely still in case he moves and ruins this, in case he sends Eddie running for the hills. 

Eddie looks away, squinting like he can’t bear to look Buck in the eye while he says this. 

“I’ve never felt like this about another guy before,” Eddie says, and Buck feels his heart stop. “Or, I would have, maybe, I just never let myself.”

“Eddie, wha-“

“It’s different with you, though. Falling in love with you, it was just the easiest thing in the world. It was already done before I even realised.”

Everything seems to just stop, like the whole world knows Buck needs a second to process this, to understand the words that Eddie just said. But he can’t - doesn’t think he ever will be able to. 

“I’m sorry, did you just say you’re in love with me?” Buck asks, shock, and disbelief, and hope ringing clear in his voice. 

Eddie still won’t look at him, won’t look away from the stain on the rug where Christopher spilled orange juice a few weeks ago. He won’t look at Buck, but he nods his head, slowly and surely. 

“Oh.”

It’s the only thing Buck can make himself say, because his brain is going a mile a minute but nothing wants to form into a coherent thought. 

He’s in complete disbelief. 

Eddie just told him the one thing he’s been wanting to hear for years, and Buck cant move, can’t say anything other than _oh,_ even though inside his head is a litany of _I love you, I love you, I love you._

“Yeah, _oh._ ”

But then Eddie looks unsure, and afraid, and Buck can’t have that. So his brain kicks into overdrive. 

Before he can even really think about what he’s doing, Buck is reaching out, turning Eddie’s head towards him with a gentle hand, and then - _oh._

The kiss is soft, and sweet, and fucking _reverent._ It feels like stars are born, and die, and whole universes are created in kisses like these, in the easy, electric press of their lips. 

Buck has never in his life felt more at home, more like he belongs, than right here in this moment.

“I love you,” Buck says, when they eventually pull back. 

There are tears in Eddie’s eyes and a flush on his cheeks, but Buck knows that look on his face. He knows that Eddie is insecure even if he pretends not to be, and that he’s just as afraid as everyone else, even though he’s basically a superhero. He knows what Eddie is about to say before he even opens his mouth. 

“Buck-“

“No, shut up,” Buck says.

He kisses Eddie again, then. And Eddie kisses back, let’s his hands tangle in Buck’s curls and he sighs into the kiss when Buck’s thumb brushes over a strip of bare skin above his hip. 

“Buck-“ Eddie tries again. 

“No, don’t argue with me,” Buck tells him. 

He holds Eddie’s face in his hands, like Eddie had done with Buck earlier. He cradles his jaw like he’s the most precious thing Buck has ever touched, and gently brushes his thumbs over Eddie’s cheekbones. 

“I love you,” Buck says again. “And I’m not going to let you try and talk me out of it, or say it’s a bad idea, or use Chris as an excuse, because you know I’d die for that kid. I’m _here,_ okay?”

Eddie’s eyes are filled with tears as he listens to Buck, and when he blinks one escapes, traces a path down his cheek until Buck swipes it away with his thumb. A smile starts to curve at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and Buck can’t help but a press a kiss to it. 

“So, unless you’re gonna tell me you love me again, shut up and let me kiss you.”

“I love you,” Eddie whispers. 

And then they’re kissing again, and it’s not fireworks and neon lights - it’s the warm glow of candlelight, and the soft touch of _home._

Because that’s what Eddie and Buck have always been to each other. It’s what they’ve created together - with Christopher - and it’s exactly where they belong.


End file.
